Half Moon Bay (13)

Beaches and blue skies

Half Moon Bay has it all. No wonder this visit marks the thirteenth time we’ve camped there. And it’s pretty close to home, so you can’t go wrong. We’re fair weather campers now, and we have cancelled reservations when it was going to be raining the entire weekend. But we got perfect weather for this one.

Riding Highway 1

I got to tag along for one of Richard’s big loop rides. I’ve sagged him with the car before, and remember thinking some of the backroads were a little too narrow for comfort. Perfect on a bike though, and the presence of so many bikies confirms that the Cabrillo Highway – Stage Road – Tunitas Creek – Lobitos Creek – Purissima Creek – Higgins Canyon loop is one of the classic California rides. From the state park, you head south on 1 until you get to Pescadero Creek Road. There, you turn inland and of course stop at Arcangeli for a hot sandwich and some dessert. We went with the pesto chicken mozzarella on a ciabatta roll, and a generous slice of Ultimate Chocolate Cake.

Required stop at Arcangeli

Then you take Stage Road out of town, passing by, or stopping if you like, at San Gregorio General Store. Before long, you ride past The Bike Hut. I’d never seen this place before and it’s pretty cool. It is a little red shack that is open 24/7 and is stocked with all kinds of things bikies might need; snacks, water, tools, pumps, tubes, even tea and coffee. It used to be all free of charge, but now there are prices listed for an honor payment system. According to Richard, people sometimes take things as needed and send in checks later to cover because they had no cash at the time. We stopped for a quick snack and continued on. As it so happened, not a hundred yards after we started to roll, Richard noticed his tire was going flat. Couldn’t have happened in a better spot!

The Bike Hut

Back on the road, we climbed up and down the picture perfect hills until the final descent down Higgins Canyon and back to Half Moon Bay. All told, this was about a 44 mile ride with 3,654 feet of climbing. I brought my backup battery and swapped out while Richard was changing his tire. I might have made it all the way on one battery charge, but it sure is nice to be able to strap a spare on to the bike rack and not worry.

Bike a little, march a little

In times like these, you gotta fit your activism in where and when you can. I was pleased to learn that there was a planned demonstration in Half Moon Bay taking place Saturday afternoon. We got back right around 2 and I went and joined in. There were maybe fifty people with signs and some in costumes, positioned at the intersection of Main Street and Highway 92. This event was organized in honor of International Women’s Day, but there were way bigger protests happening all over the country in the big cities. As has been the case with all of the protests I have been taking part in, there was overwhelming support in the form of honking and waving from the cars passing by. There were a few flipped birds and yells, but their energy were smothered by the positive responses. There was a twenty something kid (finally, some young people showed up!) who was shrieking, “Sell your Tesla!!!” at the top of his lungs every time one passed through. The old moms in the group, worried amongst ourselves that he was going to destroy his voice. But it was nice to see the enthusiasm. He went absolutely nuts when a tow truck ushered a debilitated Tesla past the crowd.

“Set it on FIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRE!!” he screamed.

And there was an awesome moment where this one guy completely lost his shit through his rolled down window. His wife (I assume) was driving, and they were stopped at the light. He started with some jeers at us that I guess he thought would get a reaction, but all he got in response was the steady beat of a tambourine, some joyful singing, and me repeatedly pointing and tapping the “no N@zi” symbol on my sign. He got more and more escalated, and I could tell the driver was getting desperate for the light to change. She sped through as fast as possible the second the light turned green, while he flipped as many birds as his two hands could manage. All that hate, and not a one of us screamed back at him. We just stood our ground, resolute, unyielding, joyful and unafraid in the face of irrational ignorance.

Small but mighty gathering

It sure felt good to be in community with people who give a damn about what’s happening. I marveled at all of the pictures and videos posted online about events springing up all over the world. The times they are a heart breakin’, but there is also a profound beauty to the international push to fight evil. As a pedigreed 60s child of proud hippies, I have no choice but to stand up and push back. I was literally raised in a law commune, where crazy smart, and deeply idealistic, attorneys took cases fighting for the underdogs of the world. They represented farm workers, and registered black voters in Mississippi during a time when that could get you killed. David Harris, ex husband to Joan Baez, was involved in this group, so though I do not really remember, I know that I knew Joan Baez and spent time with their son when I was very little. I always thought my parents were lucky to have lived through such an interesting and pivotal time in history. Guess I should have been careful what I wished for.

When you’ve put in a big day of biking and protesting, you have earned a fresh hot churro at Tres Amigos

We rounded out a damn good day with a walk to Tres Amigos for a delicious taco dinner, with warm, crunchy-chewy churros for dessert. Caught the sunset with a margarita and watched the surfers catch waves until the last solar remnants of day disappeared into the horizon.

Sun setting behind the crashing waves

I suspect we will be heading into dark days. But if I’m going to have to live through this moment, I’m not going to turn away. That would be a dishonor to my parents, as well as to all the people who have fought, and are fighting right now, against tyrants and fascism. Some good advice I hear repeated over and over at gatherings is to remind myself: “Do what you can. That is enough.” It’s easy to get overwhelmed and much harder to keep getting back up. But this I know in my bones: every single act of resistance we do matters. It matters, it matters, it matters. I deeply respect those who have fought long and hard, have not seen the results they wished for, and have gotten back up. The image in my head is that of a tiny person pushing uphill against a monstrously huge boulder. Then another person joins to add the weight of their small body, in unified opposition. Then another, and another. This is what we are called on to do now, whether we ourselves see the results we wish for, or not.

Surfer dude staying upright in the waves.

Not a bad goal: just stay upright.

Or better: just keep getting back up.

May we all do what we can. There are endless ways to offer help, from tending to the marginalized or offering assistance to those directly harmed. I am listing below some of the avenues I have found that are personally doable, well organized, and effective.